


Mistlefoe™️

by empress_ofbloodshed



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-20 22:04:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14270508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empress_ofbloodshed/pseuds/empress_ofbloodshed
Summary: Just some Nessian, where Cassian hangs up mistletoe but Nesta changes the tradition from kissing under mistletoe to fighting. She quite enjoys torturing poor Cassian.





	Mistlefoe™️

Nesta strode through the corridors of the House of Wind, heading for the library. She had finished the stack of novels in her room and needed more. The books in Prythian were better than she had ever expected, much better. At least in terms of different genres.

The halls were empty, yet the smell of fresh pine drifted throughout. A winged figure was standing on his toes in the doorway of the library, hanging something. When Nesta was close enough to smell the pine, she saw the dark hair pulled up into a loose bun.

Panicking, she froze. She and Cassian hadn’t really spoken for months, since … everything.

Just as she was about to rush on back to her room, Cassian spoke.

“Nes, I know you’re there,” he said.

Nesta walked toward him, close enough to see his face as she stood next to him. “Hello, Cassian. It’s nice to see you.” She smiled softly, clutching her book in an attempt to quell her racing heart.

He lowered his arms, looking at her. A smirk graced his features as he stepped over the threshold. “Come on, walk right through,” he told her, grinning wildly.

Nesta quirked up one eyebrow, shifting her weight to her other foot. “What did you do, Cassian?” she demanded, eyes narrowed and skeptical.

He put his hands behind his back and his face went blank. “Nothing.” His eyes shone with humor, barely concealed. Nesta glared but walked into the library, where Cassian took her by the waist and spun her into his arms. Glancing up at the doorway, then back down at her lips inches from his, he laughed breathlessly.

“I believe it’s required that we kiss now.” His eyebrows waggled and he smirked. Nesta looked at the doorway, seeing the mistletoe and cursing. “Such dirty words from a lady,” he whispered into her ear as he played with a loose strand from her braid.

She seethed, pushing against his chest with the book to escape his arms. Cassian only pulled her closer so that she was pressed up against his chest. A finger under her chin tilted her face up to see hazel eyes and a faint smirk.

Cassian’s eyelids fluttered closed as he leaned in to kiss her. But Nesta had other ideas.

The tradition of kissing someone under mistletoe would be forever changed. No longer would two people kiss, they would fight.

She let him kiss her, even kissed him back. But it was just to get him to drop his precious guard. And, Cauldron, it was hard to pull away from his warmth and solidness and safety.

Cassian didn’t know that Azriel had been teaching her to fight. They had done it in secret, long after everyone had fallen asleep. The stars and the moon were the light in the sky for them. The darkness called to both of them, in different ways. Hers was Death, his was whispering shadows.

And fighting together, enemies quivered in their boots.

The Lord of Bloodshed was about to receive quite a surprise if he thought that he could kiss Nesta under some mistletoe. A plant wouldn’t dictate who she kissed. Only the ember inside would tell her. And that ember happened to be telling her to kiss the male who was kissing her, to never leave him, to let him fuck her against a wall, to pleasure him as he would her, to give him children, to make him believe that he was worthy of her.

With a strangled cry, Nesta lurched backwards, out of Cassian’s arms. The pain she was faking, to some extent, caused her to crash into the wall and collapse onto the floor, clutching her stomach.

Cassian’s hazel eyes were wide with terror when Nesta met his gaze, whimpering in pain. Her shadow whispered good job and keep going, that voice Azriel far away, monitoring her idea and how well it worked.

“Nesta! Are you all right?” Cassian’s voice was panicked. He scooped her up into his arms, making to fly off to the healer’s, when she elbowed him in the stomach. Cassian doubled over with a groan, nearly dropping Nesta in the process.

As he was bent over, Nesta punched his throat. He collapsed on the floor, gasping for air. She snarled at his body covering hers, and shoved him off. Standing, she towered above him, steely blue-grey eyes flickering with laughter.

* * *

A booted foot rested on his chest, pressing down on his lungs. Cassian struggled to breathe, reaching up with both hands to wrap them around her ankle. The toe dug into the hollow of his throat, followed by a, “Don’t.” Letting go, he relaxed and Nesta removed her foot from his chest.

She wouldn’t get away with this, oh no. The strong-willed female above him would be begging for mercy when he was done with her.

Cassian rose to his feet, eying Nesta warily. One of her eyebrows rose as she crossed her arms, putting all of her weight on one foot. His sharp eye for weakness noticed that, and prepared to attack.

Throwing two punches as a distraction, Cassian kicked Nesta’s legs out from under her. To his amazement, she simply flipped sideways, back onto her feet. With a shrug, she attacked.

He struggled to keep up with her, staying on the defensive. Nesta grinned, aiming a roundhouse kick for his stomach as he caught her ankle.

Smirking, he twisted it so that she fell to the ground. In the process of her falling, her booted toe connected with his crotch.

Cassian groaned, letting go and sinking to the floor, curled up in a ball. He rested like that just long enough for the pain to go away. Struggling to his feet, he glanced around for Nesta.

Somehow, she had vanished.

* * *

Perched on top of a shelf, Nesta watched him spin around looking for her. She stifled a laugh as he stalked underneath her, heading deeper into the maze of a library.

“Nes, where are you?” he called out, trailing his fingertips along the spines of the books. “Nessa? I know you’re around here somewhere.”

Without making a sound, Nesta dropped from her perch and strode up to him from behind on silent feet. Cassian wasn’t the target now, it was his wings. Feyre had told her how sensitive they were, and it wouldn’t hurt to try out a few new techniques on him.

With a small gust of icy wind, Nesta chilled the tips of her fingers. She dragged her fingertips down his wings, reveling in his deep groan.

As he sank to his knees, she massaged the membrane around the base of his talons. Cassian’s strangled cry told her that he wasn’t enjoying this, but was helpless to do anything.

His voice was husky as he begged her to stop. “Please, Nesta. Please, stop. I beg you.”

“Oh, no. I think you’re secretly enjoying this, aren’t you?” Nesta drawled, her voice bedroom-soft.

Cassian was, but he would never admit it. Having her touch his wings, to let her touch his wings outside of sex, it was a sign of trusting the other person unconditionally. If Nesta kept doing what she was doing, he would erupt right now and take her on the floor of the library, decency be damned.

His cock stirred as her delicate fingers massaged the membrane around his talons, slowly trailing toward where his wings connected to his back. As her fingers moved, he spread his wings wide. Well, as far as they could go between the shelves without knocking them over.

He couldn’t help but wonder what those fingers would feel like in a bed, stroking him. Nesta’s lips were soft as a summer’s breeze, her body seemed molded perfectly to his. Just his thoughts of her were too much.

Those same lips brushing along his wings jerked him back to reality. Soft kisses were pressed up and down his wings, along with her fluttering, delicate fingers.

“Shit, Nes,” Cassian barked as her lips closed around his talon, tongue moving in harsh strokes. Her fingers continued to play with his wings, sliding up to grip his wing joint. He felt teeth softly scrape against the sensitive membrane around the base of his talon and just before he came, that wicked mouth and fingers pulled away.

With a grunt, he clambered to his feet and turned to face Nesta. She had one of her rare wicked grins, which only meant trouble. Her eyes flicked down to his crotch, where nothing could hide his arousal.

Her laughter was light and airy, something he wanted to hear every day for the rest of his life. Nesta sauntered off out of the library, shadows trailing her. Cassian heard her call out before she completely vanished from sight.

“Next time, I’ll play fair!”


End file.
